


untitled college au

by imahira



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon - Anime, Casual Ableism, Drug Use, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, On Hiatus, Temporary Suikotsu/Kikyo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imahira/pseuds/imahira
Summary: "I'll bet you a pizza they're fucking."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I could not figure out who, other than Renkotsu, would outfit Ginkotsu with an enormous metal jaw replacement instead of something more normal, so he still has the flesh one here... for now.
> 
> Further notes before beginning: weapons possession is heavily regulated in Japan, drug possession is prosecuted _very_ harshly, and the minimum age for a driver's license is 18. None of this is a huge concern for the characters featured in this story, except the part about avoiding detection.

"I could help if you were screwing her," said Jakotsu. "Not that I know why you'd want to."

"That's the whole problem," Suikotsu growled. "I'm _not_ , and I _do_. And neither of those looks to be changing any time soon. She's locked up like a goddamn nun."

"Fucked up. Maybe I should interview her for my big essay."

"Okay, first of all, she's not fucked up. She's complicated. And second of all, if she ever found me hanging out with you guys, we'd be over. For good."

"Say it with me," Jakotsu said. "'Not worth the trouble.'"

"I mean, she came here to get away from all the weird shit in her life, you know? The thing with the stalker, and then her ex starts up with her identical cousin, so in the middle of all that, how am I supposed to spring you guys on..."

"Meanwhile," Bankotsu said, turning to Jakotsu—they'd both heard this routine before. "How's the room supposed to get cleaned up if Renkotsu never comes back?"

"Did he die?"

"He took his car to the mechanic a week ago and I haven't seen or heard shit since then. I know he's still there 'cause I saw the car that time I tried going to class."

"They're probably fucking," Jakotsu said, without lifting his head from the bisected dick he was drawing in his library copy of _Forbidden Colors_.

"Dude, I'm serious," Bankotsu snapped. "I haven't seen him in like a week—he lives here, for god's sake."

"I'm serious too," Jakotsu retorted. "Uptight closet case meets college hottie, entire universe shifts on axis. Only the biggest cliche of all time."

"Okay, first of all," Bankotsu said after taking a second to collect his senses. "The auto guy's like thirty and he only has one eye."

"Gross," Jakotsu agreed. "But love is blind, and ancient, and dumb, or whatever."

"I mean, Renkotsu's cool, but he's just not the girlfriend type."

"Uh- _huh_."

"Not the _you_  kind of no-girlfriend type. I mean he's just real particular about how stuff has to be. And you know dating. Stuff changes."

"Tell me about it," Suikotsu muttered.

"I'm just say-ing," Jakotsu sing-songed. "Even you've had at least one girlfriend."

"So has he," Bankotsu said, aware that he was starting to get defensive.

"And that lasted..."

"Three weeks. Uh, she spilled a soda in the car. Or on it. He's kinda weird about the car."

"Classic."

Bankotsu thought. "And the gun thing?"

"Sublimation onto masculine power fantasy-slash-phallic symbol."

"Yeah, dude," Suikotsu said. "Everyone knows that."

"I'll bet you a pizza they're fucking."

_Renkotsu's definitely worth at least two pizzas,_ Bankotsu was about to lie, when he was interrupted by the man himself. Entering without a word, he went straight to the kitchen, where he rummaged for a few moments and then looked up disapprovingly, finally making eye contact over the half-wall.

"You're at least collecting rent, I hope?"

"Well, if you're never gonna be here..."

"I'm here enough to know that if the three of you spent half as much time studying as..." His head dipped below the counter. "Where are my tongs?"

"Your whats?"

"My salad tongs." Renkotsu resurfaced, holding in one hand the aggressively green bowl that was, last time Bankotsu checked, the property of anyone who felt like whipping up a little rabbit food. Which, granted, was usually Renkotsu, but it was one of those principle-of-the-thing things.

" _Your_ salad tongs?"

Renkotsu gave him a Look, at the same time gave the living room a once-over. "The communal salad tongs, which I've never seen you use, yet somehow are never where I left them." The Look ended in a Wince. "Never mind. Just toss them over here."

Bankotsu looked down into the remains of the pizza. "Oh. Yeah, sorry, pizza was fighting back. Did _not_ want to separate." He carefully removed the half-dried final slice (most of it) and heaved the thing across the room. Pretty good arc, too. Renkotsu held up the salad bowl and caught it with a clatter and a glare. "That's just the fork, though. I think the spoon was... last night. Nachos. Should be in the sink."

_Please be in the sink._ Nacho cheese dried overnight was not a fun thought.

"Clean. Thank heaven for small mercies." Renkotsu started running the faucet on the fork.

"Don't go too overboard in the kitchen, there," Bankotsu cautioned. "Unless you're making something for us too."

"I'm not staying."

"What?"

"I'm going out."

"With the salad bowl."

"I'm taking it back to the mechanic's."

"You're _feeding_ that thing now?"

Renkotsu bridled. "I don't know what you mean by 'that thing,' you've never even met him. He offers some surprisingly skilled work for such a small town."

Well, that was about five hundred times crazier than usual. "Uh, you know I've 'met' your car like a bazillion ti—wait, are you talking about the fucking... eyepatch dude?!"

Renkotsu looked like he'd tasted something unpleasant. Or said way too much. "He happens," he said, choosing his words very carefully, "to get a certain kind of look—unfairly, I might add, due to his..."

"Being fifty feet tall?"

"He's barely taller than me!"

Oh, god. Maybe they _were_  screwing.

"Okay, so. You're paying your mechanic in salad."

Renkotsu sighed. "I'm going to prepare a meal that includes a salad, for which I need a salad bowl, and, ideally, tongs. He doesn't have any of his own, if you can believe that."

"That's no way to live," Suikotsu agreed from across the room.

"Don't call my car _that thing_ either, by the way." Renkotsu pointedly ignored both Suikotsu and Jakotsu, who was waving from across the room. He didn't seem to care for the apartment anymore, but he sure was ready to get pissy about other people using it.

"Just having the guys over for a study session," Bankotsu said, just as pointedly. "Come have a seat, they don't bite."

Renkotsu rolled his eyes and turned the faucet off.

"Stay a couple minutes. Grab a Coke or something. Let the tongs dry."

"Fine," Renkotsu said shortly. "If it's really that important."

The spot he settled on was on a side no one else was using, and the soda bottle he poured from was the one they'd forgotten to close.

"Uh, that one's been open," Bankotsu said. "Probably flat."

"I don't care."

"Do you ever get tired of living on the edge all the time?"

"So, this eyepatch guy," Jakotsu said, giving Bankotsu a shut-up-and-let-me-talk look. "I've seen him around. Not exactly my type."

"I don't recall anyone asking you what your type is."

"So? Is he yours?"

Jakotsu had clearly waited until he was in mid-gulp, hoping for a spit take. He didn't get one. Instead, Renkotsu finished swallowing, very deliberately, and set the can down firmly on the table. "I'm leaving."

"It's a fair question, man. I mean, you're cooking for him."

"I am fixing a meal for someone who's been kind enough to entertain me for a few days. He happens to be very knowledgeable on the subject of the trebuchet's origins in ancient China—the subject of my term paper, if you recall—so we've been discussing that while he fixes my car." As usual, he said _my car_  like someone else might say _the Lord in heaven above._ "It seemed more convenient to spend the night—on the couch," he added. "In exchange for his hospitality, I've been taking care of the food."

"You can barely cook," Bankotsu pointed out.

"I haven't heard any complaints from him."

"So he's missing an eye _and_ all his tastebuds?"

"Maybe you'd be able to enjoy my cooking if you had a more mature palate, instead of living off pizza and cannabis. Not to mention the video games, which are probably dragging your mental age back down into the low teens."

"Can't you just be happy I've finally found some friends who're even more fucked up than you?"

Renkotsu looked at Jakotsu. "You don't mind that?"

Jakotsu shrugged expansively. "It's true. Unless you're way more fucked up than you look."

"On that note," Renkotsu said, standing up, "I believe I'll be going." He confiscated the salad tongs from the kitchen and closed the door behind him a little too firmly to be polite.

"See," Suikotsu said, "I think he'd be less grouchy if he was getting laid."

"He's good company," Bankotsu said. "Usually."

"I'll have to take your word on that."

"I've really never seen him this bad before." Bankotsu thought for a few seconds. "Maybe his ass hurts? Jakotsu, you should be able to pick up on this shit."

"I'm studying _fun_ sex. If he ever gets it on, it's the dullest sex known to mankind. I can tell by looking at him."

"You brought this up in the first place!"

"And I'm already bored."

Suikotsu's phone went off with some kind of peaceful classical music bullshit, and Bankotsu braced for more disaster.

"Hiii, sweetie... At the library, like I told you—oh, you _are_... uh, I'm in this back room, you wouldn't be able to find me... No, I'll come to you, give me a second, I'm getting up now..." He shoved his unopened books off the table and into his bag with a single sweep of his arm, losing Intro to Advanced Biochemistry and about 40 flashcards in the process. "Shi—oh, shoot, no, just dropped something, gosh darn it. Just let me—dropped my notes, all... everywhere, give me a few minutes to pick them up... yeah, bye, sweetie. Love you. Kisses." He slammed the phone shut. _"Fuck!"_

"You know that's super creepy, right?"

"Fuck off," Suikotsu growled. 

"I think it's creepy," Bankotsu said, turning to Jakotsu. "Tell me you agree."

"I wasn't really listening."

Bankotsu gave up and waved Suikotsu off. "See you at dinner."

"Not if I see you first."

"Do I have _any_ friends who aren't ashamed to introduce me to the people they're trying to lay?" he asked the empty air.

Jakotsu put a hand on his shoulder. "As soon as I bang _anyone,"_ he said tenderly, "I'll introduce him to you."

"Thanks," Bankotsu said. "That means a lot."

"I can Snapchat you from bed as soon as we're done."

"Now that's a little more than I need."

"You are all so sex-negative," Jakotsu announced. "I don't know how anyone on this campus ever manages to get laid."

It wasn't like Bankotsu was completely sold on the whole "roommate fucking the mechanic" thing, but after some consideration it seemed like, at the very least, he had good reason to go check in on the guy. Big brother responsibilities, and all. Plus, there was that pizza on the line.


	2. Chapter 2

The mechanic's place was pretty shabby, honestly. Shabby enough that it was one of the few places Bankotsu hadn't visited to pass the time when he was supposed to be in class. The mechanic was a little more impressive, mostly because he was big. Not just tall, like Renkotsu, but the kind of guy who could throw a punch and make it hurt. The other thing that stood out was the huge metal patch covering about a quarter of his face. Like he'd lost way more than just an eye. Something was a little off about his jaw, too, but nothing you could put your finger on from the outside.

Renkotsu's car looked exactly the same, but maybe it could fly now. It seriously should by now, from the amount of time he spent on it. The mechanic guy was fiddling with something unrelated on a table, and Bankotsu took a second to study the homemade metal nameplate hanging on the brick post. Or pounded in, more like. It was a little crooked, but the nails at the corners were nice and even.

"Yo, Ginkotsu!"

Whatever he'd been fiddling with, it disappeared awfully fast. "Customer? How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Renkotsu."

"And you are?" A touch of wariness.

"I'm his bro."

"He didn't mention any brothers."

"His buddy," Bankotsu amended. "His friend."

Ginkotsu paused to think for a moment. "Hasn't mentioned any of those either. But," he went on, suddenly cheerful, "that's even better. I was starting to think he didn't have any."

"Not too far off the mark, actually."

"I've never seen so many cracked plates in my life," Renkotsu said, coming out of some door that probably led into the guy's house. He caught sight of Bankotsu and his eyes narrowed.

"Those add character," Ginkotsu said amiably. "They work just as well as they did before."

"How nice," said Renkotsu, radiating bloodlust and obviously not listening.

"So," Ginkotsu said, "I hear you have friends!"

Not exactly the romance of the century so far.

"Dude, you haven't mentioned us to your new pal here?" He wasn't really surprised enough to be hurt, but still.

"You have been in no way relevant to any conversation I've had over the past week."

"I hear," Bankotsu said, a little louder, "you've been doing some work on this car here. Must be a whole lot of work."

The big guy's face lit up like half a Christmas tree.

"Less and more than you'd think. The first thing I noticed was how well—"

Bankotsu let his mind wander. He'd been practicing this on Suikotsu lately with pretty good results. There were only so many girlfriend problems a guy could be expected to listen to with his full attention. Holy shit, was that an axe on the wall?  
"Wow!" he agreed, after about 30 seconds. The guy sure could talk when he felt like it. Ginkotsu seemed pretty pleased. From what he could see of the guy's face. Renkotsu looked more murderous than ever.

"It surprised me, actually. Usually when I get college students in, they ask me if the battery needs plugging in."

"I've been driving for a while," Renkotsu said, never able to resist conversation when it turned to the car. "Illegally for a few years, of course, but..."

Just dropping that into conversations with strangers now. Okay.

"Oh, he doesn't care," Renkotsu said irritably, seeing the look on Bankotsu's face. "I'm not stupid."

"I'm up to eight unlicensed guns," Ginkotsu said brightly. "Some of them types you can't even get with a license."

That was a relief. Not that he expected the cops to rush in and bust them all over some ancient driving violations, but when it came to any of the illegal shit he happened to do on a regular basis, a guy liked to keep average law-abiding citizens out of the loop.  
Speaking of illegal shit.

"Hey, do you ever use that axe? Like, if someone comes in after an accident, and they've still got a leg or something stuck to the cow-catcher or whatever—"

"Trains have cow-catchers," Renkotsu put in, through gritted teeth. "Cars do not."

Ginkotsu nodded firmly.

"Cool. Anyway, do you use it?"

"No, it doesn't see much use. Unless someone doesn't feel like paying their bill." For a second it was hard to tell if he was kidding. Then a burst of laughter broke across his face.

"Can I see it?"

That set off another fit of giggles. "I doubt you could even lift it."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Ask Renkotsu, I carried all the furniture into our apartment while he sat around on his..."

"Directing. I was directing."

"Someone's got to," Ginkotsu agreed.

"Anyway, I bet I could totally lift it. C'mon, lemme give it a shot."

"Oh—wellll..." Ginkotsu glanced over at Renkotsu uncomfortably.

"It dates back to 1582 and you may not touch it," Renkotsu said flatly.

Ginkotsu looked back again, apologetic but relieved. "You know how it goes."

Bankotsu didn't know how it went, actually, but apparently the axe was off limits.

"Y'know, weapons are some cool shit." He was doing his best to keep this conversation afloat. "I've got this knife—can't carry it, of course, which is bullshit, 'cause it's a family heirloom..."

"The knife"—well, at least Ginkotsu was willing to help out—"is like the wheel. You can make it more complicated, but you can't improve the basic concept. Unless it's with a sword."

"What if you had a wheel and you put a bunch of knives on it?"

"We were just discussing that," Renkotsu broke in. "We felt the negatives would outweigh the positives. You really should be going now."

"I really shouldn't. Got the whole day free."

"May I have a word," Renkotsu said, in that voice he had that silently added or else. "The table is set," he added to Ginkotsu, in that voice that said _I'm not asking_.

Either Ginkotsu hadn't known him long enough to get the full meaning, or he didn't mind. "Let me know when you're done," he called on his way in. "We have a coupon book!"

Renkotsu waited until he was inside, forced half-smile frozen on his face, before advancing on Bankotsu, who let himself be backed out of the garage rather than start something that would definitely end badly for Renkotsu.  
Hands on his hips, he decided to keep up the friendly act. They were technically in public, after all. "So do I get the coupon book?"

"What," Renkotsu hissed, "are you doing?"

"I'm being friendly!"

"You are being condescending and rude!"

"Oh, yeah, you got me. I came here to be all weird and condescending. I'm gonna be in his kitchen before you know it, micromanaging his salad levels."

"Could you have an ounce of respect for your elders, for once in your life?"

"If this guy wanted respect, why would he let YOU within five feet of him?" Bankotsu demanded. "He seems like a chill guy, I don't think he wants me acting all reverent or whatever."

Finding that impossible to disprove, Renkotsu switched tacks. "Why are you here at all, talking to him in any capacity? Why are you so obsessed with this frankly insane reading of our casual relationship?"

"Um... I mean, Jakotsu was the one who brought it up, but..."

Renkotsu lifted his eyes to the heavens for a second. "I might have guessed."

"Look, I'm an open-minded guy. If you wanna lay the Terminator, who am I to stand in your way?"

"The Terminator series comes in a number of different models, some of which are quite—" He cut himself off.

"Quite what? Fuckable?"

"Quite female! Or nothing, that would be my choice. A tank or a drone would be preferable to whatever nonsensical scenario the three of you have cooked up."

"Oh, my god, dude, I'm not getting laid either but at least I don't lose my shit about—"

"If you're not out of here in sixty seconds," Renkotsu said, trying to retreat into eerie calm and failing, "I'm not opposed to giving that axe a try after all."

"Like you could even lift it."

"I most certainly can."

"How would you—did he let you touch it?"

"I examined it. Very carefully. I'm doing an essay on—"

"Yeah, on the many uses of fifteenth century Japanese hand axes in Chinese trebuchets?"

"Sixteenth century," Renkotsu muttered.

"I'm telling you, man, I don't really care which of his axes he's letting you touch. I just wanna know what's going on with my buddy."

"Nothing is going on! At all! I don't know what got this so stuck in your head, but—"

"Because something's always up whenever you pull this weird, pissy act? I just wanna know what's so great about this guy that you haven't been home for a week."

"He actually listens to me, for one."

"See, now we're getting somewhere."

"And for another, my personal life is none of your business."

"Would you chill for five seconds and get it through your thick head that no one cares about your 'personal life?' I'm not here to steal your weapons-boner buddy or key my name into your... car, or your first-born, or whatever you're calling it now. I'm just checking in. You know I think of you as my fucked up little brother who's older than me. Please, I'm begging you, stick your dick in something before you give yourself a heart attack."

The roll-up door shut awful fast for a place that was liable to have customers.

"Oh, yeah, real mature!" He gave the shutter a good slam.

No answer.

Fuck him for being tall enough to reach that button.

 

* * *

 

"So?" Jakotsu asked.

"The car definitely has two daddies." He thought for a second. "I don't think they're screwing, though."

"You just don't want to owe me that pizza."

"Nah, he's really not that good at keeping secrets. From me, anyway. And the mechanic guy looks even worse at it."

Jakotsu shrugged. "He's your roommate. I guess you'd know."

"He kept going on about respect and shit."

"Maybe he's trying to impress the guy."

"Renkotsu? He's the one who waits for _you_ to impress _him."_

"Well, I don't know," Jakotsu said irritably. "Maybe they're hatching a plot to murder you. But if the pizza's off the table, I'm ready to move on with my life."


End file.
